


I Live My Life Inside A Dream

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 (RPF)
Genre: Cutting, Depression, Disappearance, Homophobia, Letters, M/M, Memories, Mentions of Suicide, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Recreational Drug Use, i hate tagging just read the fic, old cars, this is really depressing ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick’s best friend Louis vanishes without a trace one day. As Nick tries to find him, he finds out the boy’s deepest secrets, relives momories, and spirals into a world of darkness locked inside the mind of a boy who withered away into dispair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silver and Red Skies

**Author's Note:**

> this is rubbish, but do enjoy it anyhow. i'll be updating this maybe once everyday or every other day if needed. ;)  
> please kudo, comment, and bookmark if you can! Thanks!

_“…..I wish I knew why everyone hates me, except Nick Grimshaw and my mum. What did I, Louis William Tomlinson, do wrong to make them turn their rotting tails on me? I suppose I’ll never really know what everyone thinks of me, though I’ve been told it’s all negative. With that in mind and the fact that nobody really loves me, I wish to at least get out of the picture. Weather I die or not, you’ll never know. Will you see my dead corpse in the middle of the lake houses? Or will you just see me living a perfect life in Denver, with the man of my dreams? Hopefully, if everything goes right, none of the ones I was ever close to will know…..”_

It was a crisp autumn morning the day Louis disappears, and Nick just has this sinking feeling the moment he wakes up that something awry is happening to his day.

He groans as he rolls on his side in bed, grabbing his phone and turning the alarm off, deciding he might as well get ready for school. Unlike most days where he’ll arrive late enough to have missed first period psych and just slink into the classroom and seat himself beside his best friend, Louis Tomlinson. 

Nick hums to himself as he prepares for the day, opting for a simple tank-top blue jeans combination seeing as it was Monday and he frankly didn’t care at that point. He puts those on, and pushes a pair of ragged, dirty green converse towards his bathroom as he goes to finish preparations in there.

It’s a time later that Nick emerges from his tiny, cramped bathroom that screams ‘six year old boy’, with decent hair that he accepts for the day. His dog, Lex, has somehow gotten in his room (his suspects his mum) and is head-deep in his schoolbag. Nick runs over and grabs Lex by her middle, gently scolding her as he places her on his bed, where the little mutt knows she’s welcome.

“You’re a naughty pup, aren’t you, Lexie?” Nick mutters as he plops on his bed, a loud squeal emitting from it as he put his weight on it. The only reply he gets is the small bark from Lex, who butts her bony head into his side, making him grunt rudely.

Nick and Lex stay like that in his bed for another half-hour, watching the sun rise over the little town he lived in. When he manages to crawl back out of bed, the rising sun makes everything appear in a silverish- red color, which he doesn’t really take notice. He’s not into that whole studying the sky crap, that’s more of Harry’s forte, being enormously sappy and philosophy-filled. Instead, he makes his way downstairs to grab breakfast, and notices the almost annoying silence in the house. This was around the time he remembered that he was normally the first one awake at home. His parents and younger siblings wouldn’t be awake until he would be out the door and in his beat-down old impala on the way to school.

Lex circles Nick as he stumbles over to the cabinets, figuring out what he should settle on for a meager breakfast. He pulls out a small box of microwaveable pancakes and decides on that as he rips the box open, reading the almost miniscule text of the instructions. He grabs a plate from the counter where they are kept, and disposes the six blueberry pancakes on it, then moving it in front of the navy blue microwave. Nick opens the microwave and puts the plate in, closing it and typing the number of minutes it should bake before pressing the ‘on’ button.

He steps back as it makes the noise to indicate that it is cooking the food, then turning towards the stove, where he goes to make his morning tea for him and Louis. Nick’s nice in the fact that he’ll sometimes make his best friend tea, because sometimes it’s hard for Louis to find an opportune time to fix it with everyone in his house awake before himself.

Nick prepares everything to get the tea made, and leans back on his chair at the table as the microwave beeps to tell him that his breakfast was done, by this point he’s beginning to lose his appetite. He gets up from the table and goes to get the pancakes from the microwave, putting the plate on the counter as he finds a lone Tupperware container to put them in, because maybe Harry wants some if his mum hasn’t already stuffed him up like a pig to be butchered.

He does take one mini pancake and forces it in his mouth, chewing slowly as he sees that the tea is done, and gets out two insulated cups to pour it in. His phone which he had forgotten was secure in his pocket, rings loudly, the opening notes to “I Just Had Sex” filling in the comfortable silence in the kitchen, startling him. Nick fishes the phone from his pocket and answers it, now irritated. “Who is it? Can it wait until school?”

“No, it can’t wait until school, Grimmy. I need you over by my place, leave Lou’s tea there. He’s not gonna be here.”

Nick instantly realizes its Harry on the other side of the line, and he sighs, looking at Louis’ already prepared cup of tea next to his Rolling Stones cup. “Fine, but can you tell me why I’m coming to your place?” He grumbles, taking the cup anyway because he could always leave it for Harry’s sister, Gemma, who was in the local college. He was seriously too nice to his friends, he swore.

“It’s kind’ve not something I’d want to discuss on the phone. It’s about Lou. Just come over here as quick as you can, okay?” Harry replied, sounding tense, which is unusual.

“Fine. I’ll be over by foot if it’s so serious. Be there in five, Harry. Good-bye.”

“Later, Nick.”

They both hang up their phones at around the same time, and Nick ponders to himself what could have happened that Harry couldn’t talk to him on the phone about it. Harry would usually talk on the phone about anything, unlike Louis who would basically fill up entire conversations with small talk. It must be bad and awfully personal, Nick supposes as he puts the Tupperware in his red schoolbag, then stuffing the cups in the side pockets after checking twice that the lids are securely on.

After he scribbles a note to his parents and letting Lex out into the backyard, he makes his way off of his property, and down his small, quiet neighborhood.

The sky is still a silver-red and Nick still doesn’t notice or care.

He’s at Harry’s and Gemma’s apartment in less than fifteen minutes, where he finds Harry on the front porch, looking pale and like he’s cried at least twice. That image makes him increase his pace, and he’s right up on Harry a minute later, one arm around him, the other pulling out the Tupperware of pancakes.

Harry’s whimpering quietly, sounding more strained then when he was on the phone earlier, and he still has his pajamas on, his hair a wild mess. He leans into Nick, making the elder glad he didn’t wear something exotic like leather or silk that day.

“What in the world is even going on, Harold? I can’t understand why you’re sniveling if you can’t tell me right away.” Nick asks, rubbing Harry’s back reassuringly, wishing Louis were here instead, doing the comforting. It was never his best talent, comforting.

It takes Harry a few moments before he can look up at Nick and answer his question. “L-Louis’ disappeared. Gone. Vanished without a trace.” He murmurs, letting that sink into Nick.

“How do you know that, Harry? He could have just gone to Cederton to get those omelets he likes and will be back like normal.” Nick tries to not believe what Harry says, and denying it was the only thing he could think of doing.

“I already looked there. I’ve looked everywhere in town and in Cederton that Lou goes to. You know he hates breaking habit unless he has a reason. He has one, Nick. It’s written in his blood, too.”

Nick’s eyes widen as he hears this, and his grip on Harry’s shoulder gets considerably tighter as he sucks in a breath.

_“I think he did one of two things, Nick._

_He either committed suicide somewhere away from here…._

_Or he ran away from here where he’ll never return.”_

Harry shudders a breath as he pulls out a couple pieces of paper from his pocket, rank with the copper smell of blood.

_“Louis called these ‘The Silver Bullet Letters’.”_


	2. Crimson Red on Pearl White Floors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically really short. i promise the other chapters will be longer, and with less extremely corny refs, well, i dunno about the latter xD  
> anywho, i kinda copied lines from "Rebel Without A Cause" cause that is my favorite movie ever and it fit the story, well i thought it did.   
> Enjoy   
> Please kudo, comment, and bookmark if you please! ;)

_“Sometimes, when I’m alone in my room, with the house silent, I just lie in my bed and think. Most of the time, I think about how I’ll cover up my shadows the next day, and other times, I’ll let the darkness overtake me. I’ll feel the urge coming through me, the hisses of my thoughts as they tell me that I’m worthless. My wrists tingle at the upcoming sensation of being ripped open, the scarlet trails of blood dripping down them and onto the bathroom floor of pearl white. This will prompt me to get up. To do the deed that relieves me of all this pain. All this darkness in me…..”_

Louis whimpered as he looked down at his wrists, not expecting this much blood to be pouring out from them. There was a growing pool under his arm; he was using it to write his thoughts down. He had told himself long before that the crimson red of his blood would rid of his darkness if he got rid of it.

He knew from school that if he let too much flow out, he would see blackness forever. Louis always made sure to not push this ritual too far. He had bandages to wrap around his wrists, excuses for wearing the long-sleeved sweat-shirts even in the middle of summer, and a million-dollar smile that was a million dollars fake.

From the ancient television in his room, he could see one of his favorite scenes from the movie _Rebel Without A Cause_. It was where the main character, Jim Stark, was arguing to his parents.

_Frank Stark: You’ll learn. When you’re older, Jim._

_Jim Stark: Well, I don’t think that I want to learn that way._

_Mrs. Carol Stark: Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because we’re moving._

_Jim Stark: [Grabs his mother] You’re not going to tear me loose again._

_Frank Stark: Well, this is news to me! Just why are we moving?_

_Mrs. Carol Stark: Oh, do I have to spell it out._

_Jim Stark: You are not going to use me as an excuse again!_

_Mrs. Carol Stark: I don’t._

_Jim Stark: Everytime you can’t face yourself, you blame it on me!_

_Mrs. Carol Stark: That is not true!_

_Jim Stark: You say it’s because of me, you say it’s because of the neighborhood! You use every other phony excuse! Mom, I just… Once I want to do something right! And I don’t want you to run away from me again! Dad._

_Frank Stark: This is all going too fast for me, son._

_Jim Stark: You better give me something. You better give me something fast._

_Mrs. Carol Stark: Jimmy, you’re very young. A foolish decision now could wreck you’re whole life. In ten years, you’ll never know this happened._

_Jim Stark: Dad, answer her. Tell her. Ten years. Dad, let me hear you answer her. Dad._

_Mr. Stark sits quietly_

_Jim Stark: Dad, stand up for me._

_Mr. Stark still sits quietly; he grabs his father and yanks him up_

_Jim Stark: Stand up!_

Louis can remember the lines and runs them through his head once, twice, always stopping when Jim yells out _“Everytime you can’t blame it on yourself, you blame it on me!”_

He agrees with Jim, he knows how Jim feels to an extent. He knew that his father always blamed him for ‘fucking up every friend you had’.

He supposed he was the cause of Harry turning to drag as an outlet of letting go of his emotions, and of basically turning almost all of his close friends to love one another.

Louis thumbed the rough surface of the bandage that was wrapped around both of his wrists, sucking up the blood, making it slowly stop so it could scab over. There were times Louis wished they didn’t do that. He wished that they would soak through the wraps, flow around him, so Louis could really see if the blackness everyone talked about when one entered hell was true or not. He was destined to go to hell, for he had sinned to the highest of sins.

_“……I see myself as a Jim Stark, confused, lost, alone. Now some people would love to disagree with me, say I’m not seeing the full image of Stark, and maybe I am. I don’t care though. I stopped caring years ago. I stopped caring when everyone else did._

_People, if they could read this letter and know I was still around or not, would probably lock me up in the loony-bin; tell me I’m worth something. I’m not worth any of your pennies, not worth your love. I know from experience. I’m horrid at sex, I’m rubbish at learning, and just ask Liam, he’ll knew. He was around when I realized both. He’ll tell you a different side of the story, but really, you’ll see the undertones. I WAS the one who helped him lose his virginity. Along with mine, I must add. It was an experiment._

_Liam had wanted to know what sex was like; he wanted to impress his new boyfriend and best friend Zayn. He thought I knew, when really, I’d only watched a few porn videos to jack off to._

_That night when we did it, I really only remember moans, sweat, and the overpowering smell of our sex in Liam’s parents’ bedroom._

_The next day, somehow, some way, everyone in school knew. That’s when everything came to now. To the darkness invading me. Its claws sharp like thorns and fingers greedy like a needy child._

_Everyone at school teased me and called me obscene names I’d rather not relive at the moment, or ever really. They didn’t know about Liam though. Maybe they refused to believe innocent Liam Payne had anything to do with me being a homosexual slut-bag. I won’t know, honestly._

_The first day that happened, I tried to play it off as a joke, but even Harry and Nick could see through my disguised expressions that I was miffed. They tried to comfort me, but by that point, the plant had been seeded; I was well on my way to hell……”_

Nick choked out a gasp as he shoved the papers towards Harry, who shakily took them in his hands. “Tell me you have a typed copy of this, Harold. Please tell me this is fake. It should be.” Nick managed to say, trying to recover from the words written precise in the blood of his best friend.

“It’s not. He didn’t have a typed copy on his computer drive, his mum let me check. This is it.” Harry whispered his reply, getting up from his porch-steps, heaving a sigh as he planted himself in a rocking chair only a few feet away.

Nick sat on the porch, hands tangled together, already sweaty from the mortification his was suffering. He tried to even imagine what Louis could be going through, and coming up blank. _He needed to know more._

“Harry, do you think you could do me a large favor?” Nick asked, turning to his curly-haired friend, who looked about to cry again.

“What now? I don’t know what I can do…” Harry mumbled, grabbing the cup of cooling tea that was originally Louis’, taking a long drag from it.

“It’s only one thing. I need everything Louis wrote. Journals, notebooks, schoolwork, his computer, everything. I want to know if anything can trace him to where he might be now, if he really did run away.”

“I guess that could be done, Nick. Bring the car over to Lou’s house before he mum calls the police. If we can grab this stuff before they get there, we might have a better chance of figuring things out without lies and bullshit.”

Nick nods his agreement, and sits up from the steps, going to Harry and wrapping his arms around him in a hug. “You go back inside and sleep. I’ll tell front office you’re feeling off, I need to talk to the others and see if they know anything about this.”

“’Kay. Say hey to Niall, and tell him he’s free to see me. He’ll freak the fuck out if he doesn’t get to see me, but you knew that.” Harry says tiredly, returning the hug back with less grip then normal.

They’re like that for a few minutes, arms wrapped around eachother, just letting time crawl past, before Nick lets go of Harry. He has to leave if he wants to get home to get the car and get to school at a semi-decent time.

He waves to Harry, who gets up and stumbles back into the apartment, waving as he drags his shattered body back inside, hopefully to sleep. Nick then turns around, faces the empty street in front of him, and goes right, where home will be. He has work to do.


	3. I Gave You All My Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so i like old cars so forgive me ok  
> Nick's car is a 1973 Chevy Impala, and Louis' car is a 1973 Chevy Caprice Classic Coupe :)  
> also i forgot ed was in the fic until now so here he is. he'll also be pretty much in alot of the next chapter.  
> enjoy ;)  
> Please kudo, comment, and bookmark if you can! :D

When Nick returns to his house, his father’s already up and on the front porch, drinking coffee like he usually did every morning. He seems suspicious of why Nick’s at the house so late, but Nick knows that he won’t ask unless he had been in trouble recently, which he hasn’t, so he’s scot-free.

He doesn’t talk to his father as he goes over to his sleek and vintage Chevy Impala that was painted macaroni orange with a white top. Nick opens the doors and throws his schoolbooks in it, then depositing himself in as well, digging his keys out of his pocket. Once he finds them and sticks them in the ignition, listening to it purr to life.

Nick remembers when he first received this car; Louis and all his friends had actually pitched in to buy it for him for his sixteenth birthday after they heard him talking about wanting a 1973 Chevy Impala Coupe. He remembered when he had woken up that morning and heard the roar of a car outside, and when he had gone out and seen Louis in the driver’s seat, the others squished in in other ways. That was almost two years ago.

He sighs as he puts it in reverse, pulling it out of the driveway, thinking about the letter, he had seen so much he’d rather of not seen….

_“…..Everything here in Cankson is fake. The people are fake, the places are fake. Everything’s fake and it’s a living hell for me. I can barely talk to my friends in school without getting called the local slut-bag or homo-whore. I wish I could talk to them, tell them what I’m going through, but Harry, Niall, Liam, and Zayn haven’t been harassed for showing their love for each other. I don’t know about Nick. If there’s one thing I’ve never gotten from him by talking, it was his sexuality. I suppose he could be bi-sexual….He flirts with everyone, even the teachers._

_But pretty little Nick is perfect so of course he wouldn’t get bullied. I’ve never seen it happen, truth be told. Gasp! You mean Grimshaw hasn’t been picked on before? Not even by you, Louis?_

_No. I have not picked on Nick Grimshaw nor have I been near any occurrence of the sort._

_Even though I may not show emotions much, I would never treat someone who was my friend like that. Like everyone treats me. He’s too beautiful for that. One look at him is looking at perfection….”_

Nick was still confused at that part of the letters. It seemed to be when Louis was writing his happiest material was when he was talking about him. He wasn’t quite sure what to think of this information, and he’d rather not think about it.

He’s at a stoplight, so he pulls out the first CD he can find in the side compartment, and opens it, recognizing it as _The Neighborhood_. Louis like them a bit, even though Harry had borrowed this CD more. He mutters something unintelligible as he puts the CD in the player, which was custom-added to the car. He puts it to _‘Sweater Weather’_ and slowly relaxes as it plays.

It’s not too long later that he’s in the parking lot of Cankson High School, which is completely still with the exception of the small huddle of kids who are from Cederton and think they’re a gang. Nick know they’re just a bunch of phonies who try to ruse up trouble every now and again, sometimes it calls for some interesting situations.

He pulls the car into the parking spot he reserved at the beginning of the year, next to the empty lot which was where Louis’ olive green Chevy Caprice would normally be parked. He’s glad to see that Ed’s here, he can tell by the simple Mo-ped parked with the many bikes, covered with odd magnets, most of which he’s sure were bought when he and Harry went on a motoring trip across the country the previous summer.

Nick collects his things, and gets out of the car, the air’s warm, probably in the lower sixties in Fahrenheit. The leaves roll around, and Nick can recall back in elementary school when he and Louis thought they were the ghosts of swhirlie victims. There’s a small smile on his face for a moment, disappearing as fast as it came to his pale face.

The black haired teen makes his way to the front door, practically not wanting to go in, he’s afraid he’ll be bombarded with questions asking for an excuse. He can’t properly say that he was looking at the letters of a dead or runaway boy without rising suspicions. Nick doesn’t need that, he’s still trying to let all of this sink in, even though he’s known for close to two hours now.

As he gets to the tall, haunting glass doors, Nick decides to go instead and look for Ed, hoping he was at his usual hangout and not in music class at the time. He shuffles through the sidewalk, shoving breaking multi-colored leaves onto the parking lot beside him. The wind isn’t really strong, but it’s enough to ruffle his hair, and he grumps slightly at that, but figures he probably looks messed up enough after having a certain Harry Styles sobbing a mess onto his shirt.

At the thought of Harry, he takes out his phone and checks for messages. Most are from Matt, practically yelling at him in all caps wondering _where the holy fuck he is_ and Nick never thought he’d lived to see the day when Finchy would send him so many texts in the span of an hour and a half. But then again, he never expected to be this late to school in his life. So he replies that he’ll talk to him at lunch, and puts his phone back in his back pocket, his social media can wait until later. Now, he had much more pressing matters.

He can hear the gentle strumming of a guitar as he makes his way to the construction classes’ unused shed, where Ed Sheeran, his close friend, generally hung out at school. It wasn’t like Ed hated school or anything, he just didn’t like the atmosphere, preferring to learn by Harry’s notes. He always did good on tests, so nobody really questioned his skipping.

“Hey, Sheeran! You playing something new today?” Nick tries to act cheerful, though he can tell his voice is cracking.

Ed was sitting at the edge of the stairway that led to the upper level of the wooden shed, guitar in hand, surrounded by his music sheets and notebooks which were under rocks that were used as paperweights. He looked up at Nick, his expression calm, his green eyes hidden by his ginger locks that looked like they had been soaked not too long before.

“Yeah, something up with you, Grimshaw?” Ed asks, gently placing the guitar down beside him, patting a empty spot on the floor for Nick to sit, somehow knowing he’ll want to.

Nick sighs low and walks over, sitting himself down and leaning back against the door frame, far more exhausted than he should be at ten in the morning. “Way too much shit’s gone down today. Louis’ gone.” He exhales, waiting for the ginger’s reaction.

“I thought I’d heard things this morning. Zayn’s worried, mate. He almost went to his house to check, but he got a text from Harry saying not that, that you’d explain. Is that what you’re doing?”

Nick nods, and goes about telling Ed what had occurred that morning, everything he felt comfortable with, before he began to cry. His cry was hollow and silent, but he could tell there were hot tears streaming down his face.

_“…..I think being with Ed relieved some of the pain I’ve felt these past few years. Sometimes I’ll got out an hang with him at the shed, he just lets me in, and we’ll make music together. I know he wants to change the world with his music, and I admire him for that. His optimism sometimes would make the pain and itch on my wrists not be as sharp and noticeable, those were times when I was at peace with myself._

_I do remember one time, probably six months ago. Ed saw my wounds. He questioned them the moment he laid eyes on them, but I told him right away to never tell anybody. I’m sure you know by now, if your skull was thick enough to actually read all of this. I really honestly didn’t want him snabbing to Nick. He shouldn’t need to know until I’m well out of the way. So he can’t come and say I’m perfect. I’m not perfect._

_I’m a sinner, I shouldn’t even be alive. I wonder if I’ve poisoned my sisters with my evil already. I certainly hope not. I don’t want my imperfection to come to them. They’re too beautiful for that….”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow too much angst but there will be much more here ok watch for it  
> and also the rest of the boys will be in next chapter promise ;)


	4. I Only Want To Fix You, My Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains scenes with rape, so please proceed with caution!  
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this chapter!   
> I have also started considering a schedule for updates, because I'm really close to exam time and such. I'll talk about that in next chapter's notes. ;)  
> Please kudo, comment, and bookmark if you can! ;D

Nick feels a disturbing amount of churning in his stomach as he sits in the guidance consoler’s office, surrounded by various heads of the school and the police force. They’re questioning him, and he feels immensely guilty for something he didn’t even do really. It wasn’t like he _killed_ Louis or anything. But they ‘wanted him in for questioning’.

He had been on his way to his fourth period class, when the principal, Mr. Atkins, had somehow found him and dragged him for questioning from the police officers. Had this have been ten years ago, he’d be excited out of his mind, he wanted to be a police officer back when he was younger, now he wanted to be a disc jockey.

“Mr. Grimshaw, do you have any idea why your friend, Mr. Tomlinson, would commit suicide?” The head police officer asked calmly, as if Nick were going to struggle with them and throw things. He was far from that, honestly.

“He didn’t kill himself. You don’t know anything. His fucking car is _gone_. He might have run out of town or summat.” Nick spat out, almost terrified at the thought of _Louis_ committing suicide.

“We’re treating it as a suicide case until we have further proof that it was or wasn’t that, sir. The things we’ve heard from Mr. Styles, whom we’ve also interrogated, points to just that.”

_Oh my god, they interrogated Harry?_ Nick thinks to himself, clearly shocked that they would go after him first. They didn’t even interact as much as was rumored, Harry spent all his time with his boyfriend, Niall, and Louis spent all of his time either with Zayn or him. The group was only together when they were at lunch, or going out somewhere like the theater together, which was almost every weekend. Their town was small, so their group was closer than most, but not tight-knit. But anyhow, Nick couldn’t believe that Harry would even willingly answer them, he was so torn up earlier that morning, and he looked ready to faint at points.

“I refuse to think he killed himself, Officer Stevens. Louis’ too strong for those kind of thoughts, I can feel it. Can I just go? I don’t know anything you’re probably going to get from anyone else here at school. You should be asking his mum and sisters or people closer to him, you know?”

Nick just wanted to go, he had business to conduct, and he wanted to get that done. He gets up without being told to, and deliberately walks out on the officers and staff, not really caring if he got arrest or some shit. He huffed to himself and muttered something along the lines of how pathetic they were for holding him up over something as stupid as he made his way down the main hall to the lunchroom, where a small buzz of constant noise was coming from. _It was lunchtime at Cankson High School, and the rumors were probably flying like messenger pigeons._

He was right. There was so much chatter with the words _Louis, suicide, you think the faggot….._ And other various things like such that it made Nick nearly sick. He could tell as he got closer to his group of friends that they felt the same way. The usually chatty group who were going to be DJs with him weren’t even in the mood for conversation, which was unnatural. Matt and Greg were the first to notice him, followed by Niall and Zayn, who looked awfully relieved to see him.

“Hey, guys.” Nick murmured as he slid into his slot in the booth, next to Ian, who looked pale as a ghost.

“Care to explain what the fuck’s going on?” Matt said, which shook Nick a bit, he wasn’t like himself, but really, no one was themselves that day.

“I’ll summarize it.” Nick says, grabbing Liam’s unopened milk carton and ripping it open himself. “Basically I and Harry aren’t sure if Louis committed suicide or ran off, but he’s left a series of letters written in his blood explaining things leading up to now.”

The table froze. Time seemed to freeze. Niall’s eyes widened ever-so-slightly, his fingers curling around the edge of the table when his boyfriend’s name was mentioned.

“Aren’t you gonna do something to find him, Grimshaw?” Niall spit out, leaning out towards Nick with fear and anger in his baby-blue orbs, body almost shaking like a leaf.

“I was just about to ask you guys….if you could help me raid Louis’ house. I want to collect his writings and maybe his laptop, it might lead to clues as to where he’s gone. If we can get it before the police do, it’ll make our lives easier, and I know where I can put everything we get so if the police come looking for it, they won’t find it easy.”

“I’m in, if it helps us find Louis.” Zayn replied, leaning into his boyfriend, Liam, who buried his face into his raven black hair.

“Agreed. I’ll bring my pickup, if we can get more that way. I know he loved writing all the time he could.” Ian said, picking at his corn with his fork and looking down from everybody.

“I’ll come, if Harry’s coming. I need to go see him now, anyways.” Niall says quietly, then proceeding to slip out of the booth, and sprinting out of the lunchroom, no doubt to Harry’s apartment.

Nick sighs as he pulls out a piece of notebook paper from his schoolbag, and begins to draw a map of Louis’ house, he’s been there enough times to know the layout by heart. Many things happened there for them…..

_“……I remember the first time me and Nick experimented together. It was mostly a friendly gesture on his part, but it was quite enlightening to me, one who had never masturbated before in his life. He just showed me some his favorite gay porn videos, because he said he preferred them to the regular porn videos, I disagree sometimes, it depends. But that night, I didn’t have much orgasm control, Nick pointed that out, and we worked on it. Like I’ve said, these were experiments. It wasn’t like we were together like that, it wouldn’t happen._

_He’s also blown me off before, I haven’t done the same, and it scares me a bit, the thought of choking on someone’s dick. I might be exaggerating a bit. I don’t know. Or care really._

_But after that, well, things occurred. Things I would usually avoid, but I need to point out this situation in this letter because this was a large part of why I’m doing it now._

_It happened sometime on a cold November night last year. I can’t remember really when it was, though I do know it happened after midnight. I had gone to the 24-hour market to get some milk for Harry, he had requested milk because he was over at my house and wanted cereal with it. So in I went. I thought seriously, that I was safe. I wasn’t……”_

Louis grabbed the stone cold metal of the door handle, gently pushing it open so he could go in. He was only there for a half-gallon carton of milk, for Harry. Nothing more, and nothing less. He didn’t see the lustful stare of the only employee in the store, the cashier, nor did he catch sight of the bulge in his pants as he came in, rushing for the milk isle.

He gets the white beverage from the cold drinks section, and makes his way to the cash register, still not seeing the sinister smile the man with dark brown hair had. Louis happily places the carton down on the counter, a small, satisfied grin on his face, showing his pearl white teeth and his scrunched up sky blue eyes. “It feels great to get your friend things, don’t you think?” he asks the man, not knowing that he didn’t care as he rang up the milk.

“Sure….But _I_ think it’s better when I get myself things. _Like your pretty ass._ ” The man snarls, quickly grabbing Louis by the wrist and dragging him around the counter to where he could get a proper hold of him, the boy screaming out in pain as it shot up his wrist, he’d broke it.

He tried to fight back as his attacker grabbed his wrists and hurriedly find a zip tie and fastens it around them as they get closer to a room labeled _cold room._ There was no one around to hear his desperate cries for help.

Louis instantly feels the chill of the room he’s entered, and almost doesn’t notice his trousers being literally _ripped_ off until his feels a stinging freeze on his bits. _He was being raped!_ He realized finally, and his struggle became more frantic as he was thrown across the room. Louis felt another shattering of a bone, maybe a leg or ankle? He wasn’t sure at the time.

The man soon towers over his shivering and now bruised body, a look of ruthlessness upon him as he opens up his jeans and pulls them and his boxers down, revealing his dick to anyone in the cold room. _Only him, and God, if he’s there._ Louis thought, before he figured out that struggle was futile by that point.

He can only really remember pain after that, for days after that. He remembers crying and staying in bed for a week afterword, never telling his mum that he was raped by the man in the 24-hour market whose name he never knew. Louis didn’t tell anyone about it, not even Nick. He wanted to keep that secret as long as he could.

_“…..I can’t believe I just wrote that down. I guess I am pathetic. I can’t even keep my own promises, that’s shit right there._

_You see how worthless I am? I’m only a sex toy and punching bag for the ones better than me….”_

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm up for requests!)


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